


Liliopsida

by ladyofrosefire



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, F/M, Feelings Realization, Fingering, Knotting, Sex Pollen, mitigated consent problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 23:55:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18109097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofrosefire/pseuds/ladyofrosefire
Summary: In which Fjord sticks his nose in a flower and derails the group's travel plans for a few hours. Jester is not about to leave him on his own.I put it in the tags, but it's very much worth putting here: magic allows people to get around the consent issues inherent in this trope. All decisions Fjord and Jester make are with a clear head.





	Liliopsida

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sparxwrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparxwrites/gifts).



> If someone had told me a month ago I was going to write sex pollen, I would have laughed in their face.  
> Thank you to the discord and special thanks to Sparxwrites, as we went through a lot of development of this together. Also, thank you to Analisegrey and Fruityloo for beta-reading.

“Yasha, I thought you said Xhorhas doesn’t have flowers,” Jester waved a hand at the field in front of them.

The field in front of them was dotted with thick clusters of spreading, purple and red flowers. The breeze carried their smell— thick and sweet and slightly musky— to where they stood. They could just make out the shape of an inn on the other side, beyond the gently swaying plants.

“The part I’m from doesn’t!” Yasha protested.

Caleb frowned. Slowly, he scanned the field. The longer he stared, the more pronounced his frown became.

“What’s the problem, Caleb?” Fjord asked.

“The dispersal does not make sense. It is as though someone cut the flowers back from a specific path. And then… you would think there would be one or two beyond this field, or outside the clusters. But there’s nothing.” He snapped his fingers, and Frumpkin disappeared from his shoulders. “I think we should avoid them. Stick to the path.”

“You think it might be like that seaweed?” Fjord shifted where he stood and crossed his arms.

“Poisonous and haunted?” Jester tilted her head.

Beau gave the flowers a long look. Yasha sighed.

“It’s okay, Yasha,” Jester reached up to pat her on the arm. “We’ll find other flowers, soon. Less creepy ones.”

Single-file, they started through the field. They moved slowly and quietly, other than Caduceus’s muttered assurances to the grass. Whoever had made the path, Jester noted, had done a very thorough job of it. They had left tall grass to either side, although that was squashed flat in places, and none of the red flowers were closer than double Fjord’s arm’s reach away. They were very, very smelly. Jester wrinkled her nose. The odor reminded her of the kinds of heavy perfumes that her mother had always hated. Clients had given them to her from time to time, and the Ruby of the Sea had thrown every single vial away.

Fjord, though, did not seem to find the smell as off-putting. He kept eyeing the flowers.

“Dude, no,” Beau shook her head.

“I just wanna see one! It’ll be fine. It’s a plant. We killed a _dragon_.”

With that, he started through the grass. Jester almost went after him. Instead, she watched, hands on her hips. It did look a bit like something out of a romance novel. Oskar had carried Guinevere through a field a lot like this one. Only without dangerous flowers in it. Fjord got right up to them and seemed to study the petals for a moment.

Then he bent and stuck his nose right in one of the blossoms.

“Fjord!” She and Beau yelled at the same time.

“What the _fuck_?!” Beau added.

Fjord straightened up. There was pinkish pollen on the tip of his nose and a bit of it on his upper lip. His swept it away with his tongue. “What?”

“We were just saying we thought the flowers might be dangerous?”

Nott glowered down at him from her perch on Caduceus’s shoulders. “I _thought_ we’d talked about the not touching things… thing.”

Fjord shrugged. “I feel fine. It didn’t eat me. I won’t do it again.”

 

Jester watched Fjord carefully as they continued to walk, which meant she noticed his walk change. She saw the flush that crept up the back of his neck and the sweat that began to bead on his temple. And she  _definitely_ noticed when he reached down and tugged at the front of his pants.

“Uuuuuuh, guys?” Jester raised a hand high in the air and waved it. “I think we got a  _problem_.”

“I’m fine,” Fjord insisted, but his voice was strained.

The party came to a stop. The inn was maybe another seventy-five yards away, but Fjord was swaying on his feet, now. He flinched when Jester set a hand on his arm.

“Did that hurt?”

“I— no.”

She looked down.

“ _Ohh…_ Oh boy. Okay do some deep breathing ‘cause I gotta check on you.”

“I fucking told you, Fjord!” Beau leaned on her staff, her foot tapping. “Can we do this not standing in the field?”

“If the pollen were airborne, we would all be feeling the effects,” Caleb pointed out.

Jester did her best to ignore them. Fjord’s eyes had gone glassy, his skin hot. When she touched his neck, he swayed toward her, his eyes falling closed. His pulse hammered beneath her fingers, and his limbs trembled. Did he want to move toward her, or run away? She had seen that tension in his face before, and it had never been a good thing.

She could smell him, too, a salty-musky smell, with just a little of the flowers’ perfume under it. It made her want to bury her face in his neck. That was probably how it spread— from person to person by touch and then onto the ground where they started fucking. They were probably meant to tumble right into the  _cluster_ of flowers and spread pollen from one to another.

_Oh boy._

“I’m going to try a Restoration,” Jester told him, cracking her knuckles.

“Uh huh. Yeah. That—” Fjord stopped, his jaw and his throat working as he swallowed heavily. He shifted again. She couldn’t blame him. If not for the hanging panel on his armor, she probably would have been able to see the outline of his cock through his pants.

“How about everyone back up, first?” Jester flapped a hand at them.

Caduceus and Beau nodded and started herding the others away. Caleb went like someone had lit a taper under his ass.

“Oookay…”

Fjord held his breath, then gave her a small nod. Carefully, Jester set her hands on his shoulders.

_Traveler? If you could please get the weird pollen out of Fjord, that would be super great,_ she prayed.

Her magic rolled through her, prickling and fizzing like a thousand bubbles, and traveled up Fjord’s arms. She felt whatever the pollen had done  _recede_ , but it refused to vanish.

“Thanks, Jester.”

“It didn’t work,” she grimaced, “We have, like, a minute. What do you want to do about the weird sex plants?”

Fjord drew a deep breath, held it, and then let it back out. His shoulders dropped. “Shit. Um.”

“…I could help you if you wanted? But you have to decide while you can _think_.”

His mouth dropped open, and his cheeks went ruddy. For a moment, she thought the pollen’s effect had returned already. Then Fjord shook his head and scrubbed a hand over his face.

“That’s, uh, that’s mighty kind of you, Jester. But. I don’t want to ask you to do that.” Before she could protest that she  _wanted_ to, really, he continued. “And I don’t want that to be how we’re… together the first time.”

“Oh.” Now it was her turn to blink and blush because oh, okay, Fjord had thought about this apparently. How he wanted to be with her. “Wow.”

His next breath shuddered on the way in. He was losing his clarity fast, and with it his control. Jester snapped herself out of her stupor.

“What if I just, like, stayed in the room and talked to you? To make sure you were okay? And so it wasn’t so scary…”

“...You’d do that?”

She nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah, alright. That’s a good idea. Let’s— get to the inn.” He shuddered all over, then, and jerked backward. A low groan forced its way between his lips. “ _Fuck_. This… sucks. Don’t touch the flowers.”

“I’m sorry, Fjord.” She would have patted his hand if he were not so curled in on himself. Jester looked toward the rest of the group. “OKAY! We’re going to the inn, and we’re stopping for a bit.”

“Is Fjord alright?” Beau shouted back.

“Not really! But we’re going to be okay!” Jester turned back to Fjord. “I promise.”

 

The owner of the inn— a half-elf man with a sharp widow’s peak and creepily pale eyes— looked up when Beau threw the door open. “Do you all need a room, then? I’m fresh out of the refined stuff, but you can always go roll in the field first.”

His eyes slid over all of them, one by one, before settling on Fjord. Then he let out a long, sharp whistle. Fjord cringed, and Jester would have reached for his hand if it would not have done more harm than good at this point. He swayed visibly, toward her and away from her, his eyes glassy and his mouth partly open, his hands clenching and unclenching behind his back. He had been staggering at the tail end of their group. The close quarters of the doorway had him tensing. As she watched, Fjord leaned toward her again, a low sound building in his throat. She could feel the heat coming off of him from where she stood.

“We need to know of any antidote,” Caleb started, “And we would like a room for our friend.”

Jester glared at the innkeeper as he laughed.

“Never heard of red bestula before?” he leaned forward, bracing his arms on the bar. He waited. When all he got was blank stares, he tried again. “Lover-lies-waiting? The kissing flower? Red Queen— like the  _sign on the door_? Steelrod?”

Beau coughed. Nott’s lips pulled back from her teeth as she snarled.

The innkeeper raised his hands. “The only cure is to work it out of your system. Work that out among yourselves. Rooms are four silver an hour.”

“An _hour_?!” Beau yelped

He shrugged. “Or you can go back and fuck in the field. But you’ll be there a long time if you can’t avoid more of the pollen. And hell, if you want to make him walk another two hours, there’s another inn down the road.” The innkeeper waited, arms crossed.

Fjord grimaced. He’d made it to the door, but he’d spent the whole time flinching and sweating. He’d probably come in his pants if they tried to make him walk to the next inn.

When none of them moved, the innkeeper smiled. “Our rooms are clean and private. You pay four silver up front and the rest when you’re done. And you get water and a meal. It’s more than fair.”

Caleb turned back toward them. “If we can make it another hundred yards or so away from here, I can make a bubble, and we can wait outside.”

Fjord hesitated for a long moment before shaking his head. He was flushed up to his hairline and panting. After another moment, he shook his head. His mouth moved, but words would not come.

“Hey— No, I’ll handle it. Pay me back later if you really want.” Beau stepped in front of him, hands carefully well clear of his shoulders, “You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, I just. _Really_. Would like to get a little privacy.”

“Okay,” She sighed. “Okay.”

 

The room was clean. Four silver an  _hour_ should get them a room in a place as nice as the Pillow Trove, but since this innkeeper was a _dick_ , it got them a room with a worn paint job and a plain, but clean and sturdy, bed. There was a washstand in the corner, too, and fresh towels. Jester took the chair in the opposite corner, smoothing her skirts around her knees. Fjord stood frozen in the doorway.

“Fjord, do you want me to leave?”

“Please don’t. I— Gods, it’s hot in here.” He tugged at his shirt, the ropes around his arms, his pants, “Is it hot in here?”

“...not really.” Jester looked at him a moment and scuffed her foot against the floorboards. In the next room, there was a couple fucking, the headboard knocking rhythmically against the wall and their muffled moans filtering through the boards. “What does it feel like?”

“What does— what?” He blinked rapidly, but his eyes remained glassed over.

“Being whammied.” She could do this. She could help him. Jester toyed deliberately with the neck of her dress as she looked up at Fjord. “What does it feel like, Fjord?”

“ _Oh_ …” He stared at what he could see of her breasts like he was starving. “Like I’m burning up. Like I’ve—” he faltered.

“Keep going.”

“Like I’ve been. On edge. For… _weeks_. Fuckin’  _hurts._ ” There was a whine in his voice and a rumble beneath that.

Jester pressed her thighs together. “Then you should definitely take your pants off.”

“Right.”

The couple in the next room finished with a burst of noise. Fjord let out a long breath. Then he started tugging at the various buckles and straps that held his armor in place. His hands shook, and he lost his hold on the laces more than once, muttering curses under his breath.

“Do you want me to he—”

“Please.” He winced. “No.”

Fjord got the buckles open and then tugged his breastplate off. The bracers followed, and the sweat-damp shirt a moment later. He paused with his hand on the laces of his pants, grinding against his palm. His hips jerked. Jester bit back a moan at the same time that he did.

“Take them  _off_ , Fjord,” she had no idea how her voice was so steady.

Fjord swallowed hard. One of the seams on his pants popped as he shoved them down. His cock curved up to rub against his stomach. It was wet and ruddy, and she noted a spot on Fjord’s pants as he kicked them the rest of the way off. He’d soaked through his underwear.

Jester would, too, before much longer. She could feel the linen sticking to her cunt and the throb of her clit. She almost checked out the window to see if any of the kissing flowers grew beneath it.

“Go get on the bed,” she ordered.

Fjord lurched toward the bed. It did not creak when he dropped onto it. Jester supposed it was built to take someone a whole lot bigger than him, and a partner.

“And you should definitely touch yourself.”

He groaned, turning his head and pressing his face against the pillow. Then he reached out and fumbled the bottle of oil off of the bedside table. Fjord spilled its contents over his palm and fingers. The bottle clattered back to the table as he wrapped his slick fingers around his leaking cock and stroked. Fjord let out a garbled moan, and his back arched. Sweat slicked his skin, shining on his chest and his forehead. His cock leaked freely.

Jester sighed. His head came up, his eyes opened. The flush covering his cheeks and his neck darkened to copper. His hand faltered.

“You should come here,” he panted. His accent had broken through, the real one. “Let me— I want to touch you. Want you to touch me. Please.”

She wanted to, ached to. But he had said no when he could think clearly, so she was not going to go near him. Jester shook her head. “Keep going,” she urged. Her fingers tightened in her skirts. “Show me what you like.”

Fjord groaned. He rolled onto his face, his hips working against the sheet as he reached back with his slick hand and rubbed over his hole.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he gasped. His back tensed, his hips pushed against the bed. “I—holy _fuck_.”

And he shuddered. His whole body jerked as Fjord came. The sound that broke from him was almost pained. He was still hard. She could see that when he raised his hips again. He looked like nothing had changed, except now the sheets were sticky. He pushed two fingers into himself, wincing.

“Slow down,” Jester ordered.

“Can’t. I can’t. I need to—”

She took a deep breath. “Fjord, you’re going to fuck yourself  _nice and slow_. And if it hurts, you slow down  _more_. Do you understand?”

He stilled. Then Fjord nodded, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. He slowed. His fingers pumped in and out of his hole. They crooked, and he cried out again.

“Good. Good job. Just like that. Talk to me, Fjord.”

“Come fuck me,” he begged again. Fjord turned onto his side. His cock stood heavy, bumping against his stomach, smearing wet on his skin. “I’ll make you feel so good. Just please, touch me—”

Jester shook her head. She could lift her skirts, slip off her sticky underwear, fuck herself on his fingers like he was. He was giving  _her_ a show. Fjord was working hard enough to keep himself off of her.

Fjord wound up on his back, hips raised, head tossing against the pillow. “I keep thinking about what you’d feel like,” he confessed, “If these were your fingers. If— you came over here and rode me. How hot inside you’d be, the—the sounds you’d make when you came. What you’d taste like.”

Jester bit back a whine and pressed her thighs together.

“I’ve been thinking about it.” Fjord continued. He was gasping, now, panting. He thrust back against his fingers. But for all that, his eyes were fixed on hers. They were still glazed, hazy gold, feverish and bright. “Ever since… since the bathhouse? In Zadash? All your curves. The way you were teasing. God _damn_.”

“Ever since the bathhouse?!” She almost protested, but Fjord continued.

“Please, let me touch you. I want to make you so happy, Jessie.”

A softness crept into his voice that made Jester catch her breath. He was three fingers in, now, breathing hard. But he was still looking at her like he wanted to bring her flowers. Yes, like he wanted to fuck her until neither of them could walk. But also like—

Oh.

_Oh._

“Fjord…” this wasn’t the  _time_ , though. She’d handle that in a moment. Right now, he was barely himself. “Fjord, I want you to make yourself come, again.”

He sounded like she’d struck him. Fjord quickened his pace. His hips jerked between his fingers and the hand wrapped around his cock. Jester licked her lips watching him. She could go and put her mouth over just the head, urge him along—

When he was in a position to say yes.

Fjord panted, gasped. His chest heaved. “Jester,” he gasped, “Jess—” then he had to look away to bite the pillow as he spilled over his hand. He shuddered and twitched and finally went limp. His cock lay softening against his thigh.

Jester blew out a long, shaky breath. Fjord was still catching his, so she— well she  _should_ have gotten up and filled the washbasin and wet a towel and brought it over because he was going to be  _really_ sticky. Instead, she hiked up her skirts and snuck a hand into her panties. A shuddering sigh passed her lips as soon as her finger brushed her clit.

Fjord opened his eyes. They were still bright, hot gold, but the fever had left them.

Jester went still. There were jokes about hands and cookie jars, but she had never once in her life frozen while stealing a treat and also this was  _not_ a cookie jar.

“I could help you with that. If you wanted.”

“Um.” He seemed better. But. Jester got up and approached him slowly. Then she set the hand she had not been using to touch herself on Fjord’s shoulder. Again, she cast. This time, the Restoration met nothing at all. “Oh.” She exhaled. “ _Yeah_.”

She shimmied out of her underwear and unbuckled her armor. The stockings could stay. Her dress could stay. Jester clambered onto the bed, Fjord’s hands on her hips to steady her. He tugged her toward his face, and she went. Her knees dug into the mattress to either side of his head. Jester braced her hands against the wall. Fjord ducked under her skirts with a sound like a man dying. Jester tipped her head back and moaned as his tongue dragged over her swollen clit. His hands dug into her ass, into the softness of her hips, roamed over her thighs. She had to remember not to trap his head, or he might end up suffocating, but it was hard to think when he was fucking her with his tongue. It worked circles over her clit until her thighs shook. She could feel him moaning under her. That was what sent her over the edge, finally, the rumble of him between her legs.

Jester’s delighted cries turned to a half-started shriek as his tongue pushed into her again. “Fjord?!”

He poked his head out from under her dress. “Should I stop?”

“No way.”

This time, she took a second to pull her dress over her head before bracing her forearms against the wall. Her hips rolled against his mouth as his lips and tongue mapped out her cunt, found the places that made her squeak and squeal and shudder. It was slower this time. Mindful of her sensitivity, he circled her clit rather than touching it directly. Pleasure built until she was squirming atop him, mouth hanging open and her eyes closed.

The third time he broke away to fuck his tongue into her, she reached down to pull his hair. “ _Fjord,_ ” she whined, “I can feel you smiling.”

“Sorry, Jester.”

He did not sound sorry at all, but that was alright. That was  _so_ alright, especially when he sucked on her clit until she shrieked and dragged at his hair again. Jester collapsed on the bed next to him. Which, incidentally, put her head on a level with his cock. She reached out to run a finger up its length. Fjord twitched. He grunted, and then made a low sound as she curled her hand around it to measure its girth. She had bigger toys, maybe, but the thought of the stretch of it, the push of it inside her still made Jester squirm.

“...I would really,” she cleared her throat, “ _really_ like it if you fucked me now, Fjord.”

“Yeah?” He sat up, disentangling himself from her legs. “Alright then.”

Fjord nudged her legs wide apart. Jester gave a happy little wiggle and quickly traced out the appropriate cantrip before raising her hips. When he leaned down to her, she hooked her legs over his shoulders.

“Will you be comfortable like that?”

“I’m bendy! And I can always move my legs.” She arched as much as she could in that position. His cock dragged along her cunt, bumping against her clit, and she sighed. “C’mon and  _fuck me_ , Fjord. Like you were thinking about doing before.”

That got him. He still paused to wipe off his hands before taking her by the hips and pushing into her. Both of them groaned, and Jester arched into him. His cock stretched her, filled her. This was not going to last long; both of them were sensitive already. Fjord got a grip on her thighs and began to move. She clutched at him, her nails raking over his hips and sides.

“ _Harder,_ ” she urged, and he obliged.

Jester slipped a hand down and rested it low on her stomach. She could feel the movement of his cock in her against her palm. She pressed down, and Fjord’s eyes fluttered shut. Jester laughed. Her heels dug into his back. Then she reached down farther to rub at her clit. Above her, Fjord groaned.

“Are you watching?” she grinned up at him and brought her other hand to squeeze her breast.

“Yeah… _Fuck_ , Jessie.”

She keened and tightened on his cock. Almost, _almost_ — Fjord nudged her hand away. His thumb pushed up against her clit, working in tight circles. Her nails raked down his sides. She definitely shrieked, and she may have kicked him in the kidney as she came again. Fjord grunted.

His pace changed, then. The thrusts became shorter, sharper, and— Jester flailed a little.

“Um?” A particularly well-aimed thrust made her voice crack up an octave.

There was  _definitely_ a swelling at the base of his cock, and she’d thought it was a _rumor_ that half-orcs did this. He hadn’t before. But he had not been inside her then.

“Oh,” he went still, although he shuddered with the effort, “do you— should I—”

“Don’t stop.” Jester tugged at his hips. “Don’t you dare stop.”

He pressed her flat on the mattress, pushing her knees up toward her shoulders. It was enough to make her legs burn, but she pressed back against him. Fjord ground into her. His head dipped. She nuzzled against him, forehead to forehead. Her breath hitched. The knot grew, and his thrusts became shorter and shorter. Each time he pulled back, it drew a noise from her like a hiccup. And then he could not draw away at all. Fjord made a sound low in his chest, and Jester felt him spill into her. It didn’t stop. She shuddered, arching against him. One of her legs slid from his shoulder. Fjord shifted carefully until she could wrap both tight around his waist as though she could draw him closer. She could feel him deep in her, pulsing hot. His groan tickled her ear.

It became a wet, hot grind. Jester's hands wandered, mapping out the shift of muscle in Fjord’s back. He kept making these soft sounds, half like growls, half like gasps for air, as he tried to push in closer. His mouth wandered between her shoulder and her ear, leaving stinging heat in its wake. She clawed at him, his back, his sides. Bruises blossomed under his teeth and her fingers. Every time he moved, the knot dragged against her g-spot. Jester wormed a hand down between them so she could rub where she was stretched around him, explored with her fingers, and giggled when Fjord’s whole body _jerked_. It knocked the breath from her. Not from the force, but from how deeply she felt it. He was still coming, whimpering with it now.

“Does it hurt?” she whispered.

Fjord shook his head. He mouthed at the tops of her breasts. His hand left her hip, and he rubbed a calloused thumb in circles around one nipple. Jester bit at the shell of his ear. Her hand moved between them. She squeezed around him as she brushed her fingers over her clit. Her nerves sparked. Her back arched. Jester rubbed around and around her clit until she came again, her head tipped back and her mouth open. He was still hard in her when she came down, gulping in air and whimpering loudly enough that she knew it carried through the door. Still hard and still swollen, still trying to work himself deeper. Her cunt fluttered and clenched. Jester kept her fingers moving. The next time she came, it almost hurt. Fjord kissed her, and she bit his lip hard enough to break the skin. It only seemed to egg him on.

“Fjord,” she gasped. She was still going, even though her legs had turned to jelly and her wrist ached, “Fjord, how—  _oooh gosh. Oh fuck_. How long?”

He shook his head and kissed her.

When he broke away again, Jester squirmed beneath him until she could kiss his shoulders, his chest. She brought her hand up for him to suck on her fingers and grinned as he moaned. Her other hand slid down from his back. Jester squeezed his ass, and then dipped her fingers down to where he was still slick, still fucked open.

Fjord’s cried out as she slipped two of her fingers inside him. But he moved atop her, spread his legs, let her push them deeper and feel inside him until he shuddered all over and his cock jerked inside her. He babbled something, his voice breaking.

“Does that feel good?” she nipped at his chest and looked up to find him staring at her with wide, blazing eyes. “Want me to keep going?”

He nodded, as lost for speech as he had been when the pollen had still gripped him. He twitched and whined while she worked her fingers in him. Eventually, he stopped coming. The knot went down. Fjord slumped on top of her. He almost hit his head on her horns.

“Shit,” he groaned. “Sorry. Hold on.”

When he moved to get off of her, Jester wrapped both arms and both legs around him and hung on. Then she wriggled back up. His cock slipped out of her, accompanied by a rush of fluid. Both of them grimaced.

“...okay,” Jester sighed. “Maybe getting up is a good idea.”

Neither of them moved for a few long moments. Then, very slowly, Fjord levered himself off of her. His chest was littered with bite marks, his back and shoulders crisscrossed with scratches. Come spattered over his stomach and thighs. Jester knew she probably looked much the same. Her cunt ached. She brought a hand down between her legs to cup it.

“You alright?”

“Mhm. You?” Her voice was a little rough, but that was fine.

Fjord paused. Then he laughed, low and breathless. “ _Yeah_. Wow. Yeah. Fuck…”

“Maybe in, like, a little bit.”

That time, the laugh was louder. He staggered to his feet, wincing, and then walked to the basin. “Aw, fuck. No water.”

Jester flicked her fingers.

“...That works, too.”

“Better than having to go down the hall.”

Fjord made a very nice picture as he scrubbed himself off, starting at his face and working his way down. He winced again when the cloth grazed his cock, but he was still thorough, wiping away the traces of come and oil and reaching back to get his ass, as well. He wet a second cloth, washed his hands, and then returned to Jester. She stretched out in what she hoped was a suitably alluring way and then spread her legs. Again, Fjord started high and let the cloth drift lower. He lingered over her breasts, at her nipples, her hips, her thighs. She whined as the towel stroked between her legs.

“You okay?”

“Keep going.”

Fjord bent toward her, soothing the rub of the cloth with his tongue. She tugged his head away after a moment, laughing.

She wound up having to cast mending on his pants before Fjord could put them back on, and he swore as they pressed against his cock. Jester stuffed her underwear into her bag to spare herself the same.

None of their party could look at either of them when they came back down, but Beau glared so hard at the leering innkeeper that Jester almost hugged her right then.

 

They camped that night beside a small stream, well away from any flowers. Fjord called first watch while Caleb made the bubble.

“I’ll join you,” Jester offered.

Fjord paused a moment before nodding. Together, they moved a little ways away from the rest of their group. The night was cold, although that had never bothered Jester. Fjord, however, started stripping off his armor. He paused for a moment when he saw her looking. Then he shook his head, sighed, and tugged his pants off. He yelped as he climbed down into the water.

“Pass me my soap?”

Jester handed him the burlap-wrapped bar. Fjord took it and began scrubbing himself off.

“Beau told me we still smelled like sex about… half an hour back.”

“Oh.” Jester looked at her knees and then back at Fjord. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, of course.” She gave him a look. Fjord’s shoulders dropped. “…I… I don’t really know how to start this.”

“I mean, those flowers are  _really_ fucked up. I would have been pretty scared. Like. Maybe if you  _knew_ you were gonna get whammied, it’d be fun. If you were with someone you really love and you  _both_ did it and agreed ahead of time, and then you could just fuck each other’s brains out…” she trailed off.

Fjord was staring at her, his mouth partly open and the soap dangling from one hand. Her heartbeat kicked up.

“And well,” she continued, “you were saying all this… really great stuff and I was  _super_ into it. Because. Well. You know. And then you were _normal_ when we were fucking even if you did forget to say you were going to _knot me_ —”

“That almost never— I’ve had that happen maybe _once_.”

“Oh. Well. Okay. But  _still._ You were still on the pollen when you were saying that and… um… Did you mean it?”

Fjord sighed. Jester curled in on herself.

“Yeah,” he whispered, just audible over the sound of the brook. “I meant it all.”

Her stomach turned a loop. “ _Oh._  Well. Good. Because I like you, too.” She frowned. “I mean, I love you, Fjord.”

He started laughing, then, but it was giddy and bright, and she did not fear for a moment that he was laughing at her. Fjord bent forward, bracing his hands a jutting rock. “…Of course you say it when I’m in freezing water. Gods. I love you, too, Jester.”

“I could have said it while you were fucking me.”

They both might have panicked. Fjord groaned quietly and scrubbed a hand over his face. Then he tossed the soap back up onto the grass and pulled himself back onto the bank. Jester averted her eyes. The water was  _cold,_ after all, and boys got sensitive about people seeing them when their dicks were all shriveled up. Then she started pulling off her stockings.

“I’m going to have a bath, too,” She announced. “Then we’re going to sit on watch, and not have sex again, because you really fucked my brains out earlier, and I have to walk tomorrow.”

Fjord smiled. “Sounds like a plan.”

He definitely watched her as she scrambled down into the water, but that was fine. She winked at him over her shoulder before dunking herself under the water.

“Hey, Fjord?” she called.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think Caduceus has tea for my throat?”

She listened to him sputter for a moment before he got himself together enough to reply that yes, he was reasonably sure that Caduceus had some type of tea that would make her throat feel better. Jester hummed quietly to herself, although the sound was rougher than usual. That was fine, though. She finished her bath and put her dress back on before joining Fjord on the bank. Then she took out her journal.

She thought about what she could draw for the Traveler— the field of flowers, Fjord with pollen all over his face. Fjord with a giant, disproportionate boner. Fjord arched on the bed, fingering himself, his face contorted with pleasure. The look on his face after he had come and the pollen had let him go, and he still wanted her, loved her.

Jester shut the journal again. This was just for them.

With a sigh, she settled against Fjord’s shoulder for their watch. 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think in the comments! And as always, I'm on Tumblr at Ask-Ladyofrosefire. Thank you <3


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